


Night Quiet

by Johaerys (jo_writes)



Series: Trisaran: An Anthology of OC Mythology (and prompted fiction) [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Poetry, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jo_writes/pseuds/Johaerys
Summary: Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:You have moonlines, applepathways:Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.-Sonnet XXVII, Pablo NerudaSome gratuitous smut and poetry, in time for Kinktober 2020.
Relationships: Aran/Tristan, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Trisaran: An Anthology of OC Mythology (and prompted fiction) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992214
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Night Quiet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oftachancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftachancer/gifts).



> Hello! This is exactly what it says on the tin- smut, poetry and cuddles galore. It features my OC Tristan Trevelyan and [oftachancer's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftachancer/pseuds/oftachancer) OC Aran Trevelyan (no relation, just same last name!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Tristan’s eyes fluttered open, the fabric of the comforter caressing his chin as he peeled his face off the pillow. His arm, trapped under Aran’s neck, had gone numb with the weight. He flexed his fingers, forcing some circulation back into them. He could roll Aran forward, he knew, and slowly withdraw his arm from underneath him, let blood flow into muscles that had probably gone too long without. Yet doing that would mean losing that contact, putting distance between them, and he didn’t want that. Not for a moment. Not for a breath. 

He slithered closer to him still, pulling him flush against him, burying his nose in his hair, inhaling deeply. The warm, comforting scent of him filled his lungs, the sweet and sharp smell of his sweat; that earthy musk, mingled with lavender and citrus. Aran did always love to use his shampoo, Tristan thought with a smile.

He hummed softly, letting his palm glide down the contours of Aran's form, pressed as it was against him. He followed the curve of his shoulder, the taut lines of the muscles in his arms, the dip of his waist, the rising slope of his hips. Aran shifted slightly in his hold when Tristan pressed a line of kisses from the crook of his neck to the edge of his shoulder. He mumbled groggily, turning his head, seeking his lips in the dark. 

“Did I wake you?” Tristan whispered.

Aran shook his head, leaning into his touch. “It’s okay.” His hand reached behind them, smoothing up Tristan’s thigh before pausing at his ass. He gave it a light squeeze, smirking as he did. “You feel good.”

That smile- that cheeky, mischievous smile, pressed against his lips- made the heat that had pooled and settled in his body stir and quicken. His hips bucked forward on their own, his swiftly hardening length gliding between Aran’s thighs, still slick from before, when they'd made love and fallen asleep in each other's arms. He groaned low in his throat when Aran arched his back, pressing himself against him reflexively, as if by rote. Leaning into him without question, without hesitation. His gorgeous, eager lover. 

He kissed him deeply, rocking against him. He felt Aran shivering, his breaths becoming faster, his body waking up, eyes fluttering open to gaze at him under heavy lids. He reached down between them to stroke him, lips parting on a sigh as his fist ran down Tristan’s length. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” he moaned softly before angling Tristan to his entrance.

Tristan shuddered, feeling waves of lust and anticipation wash over him as the tip of his cock slid easily inside him. He pushed forward, his fists tightening about Aran’s hips, holding him steady. His eyes rolled back and he bit his lip down hard, swallowing the groan that bubbled up from deep within when he was enveloped in that tight, velvet heat. Maker, he was exquisite. Every inch of him, his body fitting and locking perfectly with his own. A strange sort of hunger sparked inside him, hot and feral, as their tongues twined in eager kisses. He wanted him, more than he’d ever wanted anyone; he wanted him on him, under him, over him, around him. All of him. All of him. 

Tristan grunted as he flung the comforter off them, rolling Aran on his stomach and climbing on top of him. Aran’s hips shifted upwards, his spine arching like a drawn bow. Maker, the curve of his spine. The expanse of his back, milky white skin riddled with golden freckles, stars in a night sky. His body. Such a glorious thing, so soft and pliable one moment, brimming with energy the next, buzzing with anticipation, hips bucking against his own, hands exploring every inch of him, grabbing him, pulling him, wanting him. Aching for him. 

He shivered at the thought as he sank deeper, fingers digging at Aran’s sides. The familiar fever flared in his chest at the sound of Aran’s moans, muffled against the pillow. He picked up his pace, letting his eyes gaze over Aran’s form. He followed the channel of his spine, silver in the half light, watched as his ribs expanded with his breaths, as his lips parted with his moans. Pure light, pure want, pure, unfiltered lust in his eyes when he turned to meet his gaze. 

Tristan’s heart swelled with tenderness and yearning as he leaned down, hovering over him, letting his palms glide over his back, curling around his sides. His breath felt hot and wet when it brushed against the shell of Aran’s ear. “'Naked, you are simple as one of your hands',” he whispered. “'Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round.'” He closed his teeth over Aran’s earlobe, flicking his tongue over it. “'You have moonlines, apple pathways: Naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.'” 

Aran moaned softly, turning his head to the side to kiss him. Tristan brushed the flat of his tongue over his lips, tasting him, savouring the taste of his breath, the warmth of his tongue. He felt Aran’s fingers slithering down, travelling to the place where they were joined. Tristan bit his lips down hard, a frisson of heat running down his spine at the feel of those long, slender fingers tightening around him, making his lust build to something uncontrollable.

Tristan reached down between them, wrapping his fist around Aran’s length. “'Naked-',” he started, then paused as waves upon waves of desire rushed through him, breathing deeply. “'Naked, you are blue as the night in Antiva. You have vines and stars in your- ah- in your hair',” he panted, his breaths becoming more and more erratic with every thrust into that exquisite heat. "'Naked, you are spacious and yellow, as summer- as summer in a golden church.'"

Aran gasped when Tristan’s thumb brushed over the tip of his cock, his fingers tightening around Tristan where he sank inside him. “Fuck, Tris-” he moaned, his brows drawn together when he turned his head to look at him, white teeth biting down hard on a flushed bottom lip. “Ah- fuck- you’re so deep- so hard-” He pushed a finger inside him, alongside Tristan's shaft. "I want you, I want you so much- harder, please-"

Tristan groaned as he pushed harder, faster, deeper, _yes_ , deeper. His voice, Maker, his _voice_ , the words that rushed through his lips, mingled with unruly pants and grunts and swears- they did things to him that simple words shouldn't be doing. He closed his eyes, letting the sensations flood him as he buried his face in Aran's neck, inhaling his scent, licking and nipping at his skin. Aran's other hand reached back, fingers threading through his hair, pulling Tristan's face to his. His teeth closed over Tristan's bottom lip, sucking, pulling it in the warmth of his mouth. 

"Yes," Aran panted, breathless, tugging at Tristan’s strands as he moved against him. "Maker, yes, yes-" 

A string of garbled words and swears catapulted from his lips as Aran shuddered underneath him, spilling messily over Tristan's hand. Tristan fucked him hard, feeling Aran’s muscles tightening around his cock, letting the vibrations of his ecstasy wash over him. He brought his slick fingers up and brushed them over Aran's lips, running his tongue over them to lick them clean again. To taste him. Taste him. Yes, Maker, taste him, all of him, the salt and the sweat and sweetness- everything, everything that was him- _him-_

A guttural groan bubbled up from deep inside him, muffled as his lover drank it eagerly, holding them both close as Tristan shuddered with his finish. Tristan was sure his vision went black for a moment, so intense was the rush of exhilaration that ran through him, leaving him utterly spent when it washed away. He breathed deeply, trying to force some blood into his muscles as he pushed himself up, rolling onto his back.

He turned to look at Aran, who had stayed exactly where he had left him, cheek pressed on the pillow while his breaths evened out. Tristan reached out to brush the tips of his fingers down his spine, the smooth skin prickling under his touch. Aran moaned softly as he turned around, peeking at him through messy strands of dark copper, damp with sweat. 

"Hey."

An incoherent mumble was Aran's only reply. He closed his eyes, sinking onto the mattress, burying his face in the pillow. Tristan smiled, pulling the comforter over them both again and gathering Aran against him. Soft lips pressed against the side of Tristan's neck, a slender arm curled around his stomach. Fingers drawing small circles on his sides as he gently drifted into sleep. He listened as Aran's breaths deepened, letting himself relax in his hold.

"You never finished the poem."

Tristan's eyes fluttered open to glance at him. "Hmm?"

Aran smiled sleepily, reaching up to brush his thumb over Tristan's brow. "The poem. You didn't finish it."

Tristan hummed, bringing Aran's palm to his lips. "Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails," he whispered, kissing his fingertips. Aran sighed, his thumb caressing Tristan's cheek. "Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born. And you withdraw to the underground world, as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores: Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves…"

"...And becomes a naked hand again." Aran smiled, a soft, hazy smile, like clouds drifting lazily along a clear summer sky. "I love this poem."

"I know you do." Tristan pressed his lips on Aran's forehead, breathing deeply. “I love it too. It always reminded me of you. I still remember when I first read it to you. It was the summer after fourth.”

“Yeah. Blighted summer heat. Thought I would melt. Pretty sure I did a few times.” Aran hummed, his palm smoothing over his stomach. “Had a good excuse to drag you to the beach, though.”

“You did,” Tristan chuckled softly. His fingers ran down Aran’s arm, tracing the contours of his muscles. “I loved watching you,” he whispered. “I loved watching you take your shirt off. I loved the way your skin flushed in the sun. I loved the way the freckles on your shoulders looked in the sunlight. The muscles of your back, all wet and glistening. I would watch you, and think about that poem. Over and over. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Aran lifted his face to look at him, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tristan caressed the side of his face, brushed his thumb over his mouth. “We were in the upstairs library at my place when I read you that poem for the first time, remember? I pretended to have just opened the book on a random page and found it. I read it from the page, even though I could have recited it in my sleep by that point. You’d smiled, then. Like you knew. Like you knew it was for you.”

“I knew fuck all, mate,” Aran snorted. “I was probably picturing you reading it to me naked. I kind of did that a lot. Still do.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Just so you know.”

Tristan huffed a laugh, leaning in to kiss that clever smile. “I know.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm [JohaerysLavellan on Tumblr](https://johaeryslavellan.tumblr.com/). Come say hi!


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